Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1887-07-31
(E.PIER Y

alt is year ago, and | may use my
pCn once more. Oh, my husband, my
injured husband, am ] never again to
hear your voice until the day | die r?
DO you not see this silence preserved
for whole year is breaking my heart
killing me by slow torture day by
day? There was play wrote once
which / remember reading i'll the old
days when | WAS gay, careless girl.
il was called A Woman Killed by
Kindness and by your kindness you
are killing me. / am here, at Lang
dale Park, surrounded by every luxury
bOundless wealth can command-hon-
orcd, obeyed, courtcd; my guilty Sc
cret hidden safe, as he said 1T should
be, hut it is deathin-life. lie is as
much dead TO me as that other, and |
would God l were dead, too.
Il made 10 confidant all my life
long, and ! Will make none now. Only
write ont the memorial of that day, and
what followed, that when | am dead
oh. may it be soon he will read and
understand, perhaps forgive, when he
secs ny punishment was greater than |
could bear and | was so young, SO
young, and my eyes were blinded.
81 loved George Darcy when | was
an innocent young girl. OF that a!fec-
ton have no need to be ashamed.
We parted, and | married. | being
Int child III many respects. re
solved 10 be true wife, and, had
ny little baby lived, all might have
gone WI. Int it was not SO. The
cruel words Of an angry, jealous woman
aroused all tie wicked pride in my
foolish heart. When ! met George
Darcy at Bath ] had learned to doubt
and dcspisc my husband. Had it not
been so, had not thought he deceived
me deliberately in regard of his parent
age forgetting the question was never
raised at the time of our marriage, |
would have gone to him and told him
of my temptation but my heart was
hot against him, my eyes were blinded.
and the old love was stronger than |
dreamed. Most miserable me |, At last
| could bear my fate no longer. We
aged to fly. We were Mt Langdale
for the hunting, George being at his
unclc's house near by. 1t WAS the day
before the fatal night which would join
our fatcs forever. | wrote line to bid
hun meet me at nightfall i'll the hazel
copsc where we had parted years be-
fore, both young and innocent. We
were to fly to France, whore, as he
told me, love was free.
at was in this room where | am
writing now, was standing by this
old rose bureau. which had been made
Tor my mother the year ! was born.
No one but | knew the trick of the
spring which secures the secret drawer,
wherein lay sundry private letters and
papers. \ child may close it, but to
open it is not easy. | was occupying
myself with this, when of a sudden my
husband stood confronting me, holding
a package in his hand.
"His eyes were dreadful to see, his
face white rs death.
"On settee by me lay my travel
ling hood, muller, and fur-lined pelisse.
He pointed to the garments.
"'You will not need them, he said
slowly. "Captlin Darcy has been
called to another rendezvous, my Lady
Rosamond.'
Il was speeches. the first thought
which rushed into my bewildered BRAIN
was that the messenger to whom had
intrusted that fatal note had betrayed
me. Mir. Bolton went on speaking
with awful calmness.
"May ask If you recognize these
and this -
My eyes were swimming, but | saw
the portrait painted by de LANCE so
short a time ago, and package of let
ttrs III my own handwriting laid de-
liberately on the desk before me. And
the Lorrid thought that it was not the
foolish eTand-boy, but George who
hid played me false, took possession of
my bursting heart, yet could | not utter
one word.
Ny husbands voice went on.
"'Nour lover has met with a feto
worthy of a better man. Riding his
uncle's roam, the horse threw him at
the fence by the hazel copse-where |
found him with bis hand pressed on his
heart, dying, madam
~ did not cry or faint or fall
caught at this bureau and stood facing
him, hearing his words as one hears i'll
a dream.
"'ue was speechless,' Mr.. Bolton
said, but he still preserved his senses,
and from the look in his face and the
gesture he used | thought he wished
me TO take in charge something which
lay under his hand, some precious
token to one who loved him. L lifted
him with al care, for | knew, madam,
that he had been your friend, and,
trusting You wholly, how could dream
of i'll but when | asked him if could
help in the distress which seemed to
Cypress him he but clutched the
hand upon his heart the more tightly
and strove to speak. With that effort
his spirit passed away. /, think
ing it was q trust he would confide TO
me, put my hand to the place and
found this : the picture of the woman
whom l honored and trusted above oil
the world done in the loose garb OF a
French wnnton, and note, whereof
the ink was scarce dry, appointing this
very night for her fight With the man
lying dead at my feet. Then | sought
further-those are your letters, madam.
DO not fear, | have not read them.
They were never meant for my eyes
nor did any other man see what had
found-your guilty secret is safe with
me. When the rest OF the hunt came
up the damning proofs Of your shame
were in your husoands keeping. Now
/ give them back to you.
'How could / listen-how could I
bear it knew not till this hour my
very life seemed iroze in me--yet I
heard every word.
"Mr. Bolton went on:
"'Thcy are bearing the body to my
house, my Lady. have ridden on to
break The news to you, the man haying
been your friend ia yoath. There must
H.. No er.,up mndntn--uo fa,ntinUa